


Blindfold

by redonpointe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 16:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12016713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redonpointe/pseuds/redonpointe
Summary: The silky fabric was cool on Natasha's skin as he slipped it over her eyes, tying it securely behind her head as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. Sherlock's breath was hot, his chest firm as it pressed flush against her back. "Still sure?""Yes," she breathed out.





	Blindfold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GraceHolmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceHolmes/gifts).



> Prompt fill for Tumblr meme #22, “You can scream if you want.” Also inspired by a GracieHolmes unpublished fic.

"I want to try something," Natasha announced as she settled into her husband's lap, clad in little else besides one of his button-down shirts and a set of lacy black underwear she knew he loved. John had swung by almost an hour ago to pick up Rosie, so it was just the two of them in the cozy flat. The curtains were drawn, the lights dimmed low. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

Sherlock's hands slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and settled on her hips, his blue eyes twinkling in the warm glow of the fire. He wore almost as little as she did, with his maroon dressing gown open to reveal a silky set of boxers. It was a tempting sight, and Natasha _was_ so very tempted, but she had a game in mind and the willpower to see it through. 

He swept his eyes over her as she raised herself up a bit, the leather of his chair creaking beneath them as she made herself comfortable. "Are you going to tell me what it is, or are we playing deductions?"

Natasha raised one of her hands and a strip a black silk fabric unfurled from her fingers. "You tell me,” she said with the barest hint of a smile.

He darted his eyes from the strip to her face. "A blindfold?"

"I was thinking you could use it," Natasha said. "On me." She lowered it to run it slowly through her fingers. "On both of us, really, because I do plan on having my way with you if you'll let me, but I can go first."

Sherlock's gaze darkened noticeably in anticipation. His fingers flexed on her hips only to trail lightly up her sides, goosebumps rising on her skin. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Natasha breathed without hesitation. "You said before, when we tried the handcuffs, that you needed to experience many different sides of sex to gain a comprehensive understanding of the activity as a whole. Being deprived of your eyesight is supposed to enhance your sense of smell, taste, touch..." Her eyes never left his. "You'd be in complete control, free to experiment with me as you like, however you like. It's supposed to be extremely arousing for both parties involved." She smiled softly. "And I trust you."

Sherlock slipped one of his hands from underneath her shirt to cup her cheek, his touch tender despite the predatory twinkle in his eye. He sat up to catch her lips in a lingering kiss, nipping at her bottom lip. "You want to be at my mercy,  _Natalia_?"

She could  _feel_  he wanted it every bit as much through the silk and lace between them, and she pressed herself closer. Sherlock’s quiet moan sent a shiver down her spine. 

”Yours and only yours," she confirmed in a whisper. The ring on her finger said as much.

He plucked the blindfold from her fingers. "Up," he ordered quietly.

It wasn't the first time Natasha took orders from Sherlock, just like Sherlock took orders from her, but it was always thrilling in a different way when they gave up control to each other in bed. She felt breathless already. Skin tingling, flushed, heart pounding hard in her chest.

She slipped off his lap with the easy grace of a dancer, biting back a laugh when Sherlock rose up to spin her around. The silky fabric was cool on her skin as he slipped it over her eyes, tying it securely behind her head as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was hot, his chest firm as it pressed flush against her back. "Still sure?"

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Good." Sherlock swept her hair over her shoulder to bare the back of her neck to him, lips brushing against her skin even as his hand came to rest on her hip once more. His voice was low, dangerous, making goosebumps rise on her skin. "Because we have all evening tonight and all day tomorrow, and I like to be  _thorough_  in my experiments," he continued. "Science really mustn't be rushed."

“Tease,” she huffed, touching her fingertips to the blindfold experimentally.

Sherlock’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, she could feel the vibration of it against her back the way they were pressed together, and it made her stomach flip, the way it always did. "You knew what you signed up for,  _volchitsa moya._ " He dropped another kiss to her skin and scooped her up into his arms without warning. Her little squeal of surprise made him smile even though she couldn't see. "Bedroom now."

Natasha wrapped an arm around his neck with a light laugh of her own, every inch of her humming in anticipation. She found his ear with the instinct of a predator and pressed a kiss just below it, raking her fingers through his hair the way she knew made him weak in the knees. Sherlock's breath picked up speed, heart pounding against her side.

When he set her down on her feet next to the bed, it was to kiss her hard, deep, relentless, sliding his hands under the fabric of his shirt to tease her over the lace of her bra. She gasped into the kiss, felt him smirk as he tore his lips from hers. He was at her ear a second later, breezing down the buttons of her shirt. 

"I'll be doing the teasing from here on out," he said in a voice as deep and rich as chocolate. He pushed the sleeves down her arms, flicked her bra open in the same move, the cups immediately replaced with the warmth of his hands. She tipped her head forward to stifle a moan against his shoulder. "You'll get your turn... eventually."

Her voice was strained,  _needy_. “And if I want it now?"

"Should've thought of that before you put yourself in my hands." He nipped at her skin, pulling away from her until they were no longer touching. She huffed in protest, blindly reaching out to pull him back to her. “Patience,” he said.

His dressing gown fell at her feet, followed by his silky boxers. Natasha touched her blindfold again, itching to remove it for a peek at that long, lean frame of his. She knew it by heart, could picture perfectly every dip in muscle, every scar, every inch of that pale skin that housed what she loved most about this man. 

She  _could_ , but she wanted the real thing. 

His fingers closed around her wrist before she could push the blindfold up. "Predictable one, aren't you," he echoed.

Natasha let out a shaky breath. "I'm visually oriented," she whispered back. She tried pressing herself closer. "I  _need_  you."

"And you'll have me," he promised in that same deep baritone, pushing her down on the bed until she was lying on her back in the very middle. Her red hair fanned behind her, a puzzle wrapped in human skin just aching to be solved. Sherlock’s blood thrummed with familiar adrenaline as he climbed on beside her, relishing the way her back arched off the mattress when he trailed his fingers between her breasts, down the flat of her stomach. He dipped below the lace of her underwear, and she  _moaned_ , hands reaching blindly to grip his forearm. 

Sherlock buried his face in her neck and very nearly came undone then and there himself. "You can scream if you want," he said roughly, “but only if you scream my name."

Natasha shivered from head to toe, turning her head to find his lips in a needy kiss. He wouldn’t make her beg, she knew. Sherlock knew exactly how much she could handle and he’d give it to her, the way only _he_ could. 

She gripped his forearm as he worked her expertly with his fingers, faces so close she could feel his breath on her lips, ragged like hers. She breathed his name in a prelude of what was to come. ” _Sherlock_ …”


End file.
